The Shrubs
The Shrubs With their signature mix of analog warmth and thoughtful songwriting, The Shrubs discuss the deeper message behind “Let Us In,” their creative process, and the evolving sound shaping their forthcoming musical chapter. 1. “Let Us In” carries a strong social message beneath its upbeat sound—what inspired you to explore themes like mental health and society’s treatment of vulnerable people in this track? Well, for one, It is an issue that is unfortunately growing year after year, and seems to not be on the forefront of any political agenda, at least not in America. I personally was raised by a parent with severe mental problems, so it was always something that was known to others around me, but not really discussed openly. I think that I, along with many artists, create their best work when you are exploring topics that personally affect you, maybe even uncomfortably so. It is really shameful of us as a society really, many people are treated as almost “sub-human” for afflictions that they can’t really even control. 2. You mentioned using analog tape as an “instrument” itself. Can you walk us through your recording process and how those techniques shaped the final sound of the single? Sure! I have a few different reel to reel players and cassette players. For actual “tone/color” shaping, I tend to turn towards some of the lower end models, like a 90’s Tascam portastudio and my mono APH cassette player. The APH was originally intended for audiobooks for the blind, and came with an unusual control set, including a Tape Speed control option. For a lot of the lead guitar in Let Us In, I would record tracks on that at the slowest speed, on old cassettes from the 80’s, usually commercial tapes that have been played a lot! When you do that and play them back, they are warbley, have audio drop-outs, hiss etc..just totally Lo-Fi and damaged/degraded, I really really love how it sounds! Lol. I used that mostly as an obvious effect, it adds to the “unstable” nature of the subject matter, and just has a really unique sound, but still musical when it’s put into the right framework. To balance things out, I recorded some of the more foundational “stable” instruments, such as the bass and drums on my Tascam 22-4 reel to reel player, or my Tascam 122 Mk II cassette player. Both of those do give the instruments some color and warmth/depth, but they do a much better job of reproduction. All of the different layers went through a similar process and were eventually all tracked onto a PC and layered together. I think it gives everything a warmer depth and color, but it also introduces unpredictable “distortions” and tonal variations within individual instruments and even notes themselves that I find really appealing. The unpredictable nature of all those different tape machines not only makes it sound more interesting, at least to me, but I think each one has their own “voice,” something to add that wasn’t totally in my control, almost like a third contributor to the song as a whole! Because of that ever-present analog “voice,” I really consider that whole process to be as vital to the track sounding the way it does as any of the other parts. 3. The idea of creating something “familiar yet new” is really intriguing—how do you strike that balance between nostalgia and originality in your music? That’s a much harder one to answer really. That phrase has been used before to describe our music, it honestly isn’t something that I purposely strive for when writing, at least not on a conscious level. I think it must be a combination of our individual musical influences and our personal musical “voices” that just combine in that way. It’s one of those concepts that becomes harder to define the harder you try, like trying to grab a handful of jam or something lol. 4. As a duo now, how has the dynamic between you, Miguel and Sophie, influenced your songwriting and creative decisions compared to your earlier lineup? Well, I’ve always been the main songwriter. Having less input is a double-edged sword sometimes. There is less “creative, on the spot brainstorming” happening now, that used to occur a lot during the recording process. Performers pretty much always do that, especially good ones, give a piece their own personal touch etc. But I believe now that there is a more focused, cohesive vision. I think Let Us In really reflects that, a very intentional arrangement and tonal palette. 5. Houston seems to have played a role in shaping the lyrical direction of “Let Us In.” How does your environment continue to impact your music and artistic perspective? For me it’s beneficial because I think I write best in total solitude. Houston is a very large, sprawling city, but it doesn’t really have a set personality artistically, at least not one that I find appealing. So I tend to write and record in almost complete isolation, well with Sophie of course lol! I used to live in Seattle and it was the exact opposite; there is most definitely a vibe that you can put your finger on no matter what part of the city you were in. When I lived there, I had more like-minded artists around me, so you can’t help but collaborate on projects. I think my observational nature does find subject matter to write about in Houston, but ultimately, it’s going to naturally be slanted by my own personal lens. It is easier to get vintage music gear here though, so there is that! lol 6. This single continues a stylistic direction from your previous work—does it hint at a larger project or new sonic direction for The Shrubs in 2026?” It definitely is part of our ongoing album in the works for sure! I do really like what we are doing right now, so I’m sure there is a sonic evolution in our
Joseph Schwartz
Joseph Schwartz Blending AI innovation with human instinct, Joseph Schwartz explores identity, creativity, and belonging through a “Hybrid-Human” approach, crafting emotionally driven, genre-defying music rooted in bold experimentation. 1. Your “Hybrid-Human” workflow is central to your identity as an artist. How did this approach first take shape, and what drew you to combine AI generation with manual production?I started creating music as an exploration of how much AI could elevate the skills of a non-musician to make “viable” music. Each song became an experiment in process, expression, sound and tools. My first songs followed a process that I thought of as “direct-and-curate”, built from a listener’s perspective, constantly validating whether the output was interesting to me. That included cropping interesting parts of generations and extending or regenerating with a core that was interesting to me. Ultimately, I started realized that a DAW (I use Audacity) was helpful for a few things:Refining a sound that I wanted, e.g. the voice in “Ready for Doom (acoustic version)”Adding finishing touches, e.g.volume normalization, fade-ins, bringing vocals forward, and removing some AI artifactsAs the algorithm starts to penalize fully AI tracks, I am currently trying to assess whether algorithmic bias will give my tracks the same opportunities as traditional production 2. You mention going through hundreds of AI generations before finalizing a track. What are you listening for in those moments that tells you, “this is the right DNA”?The key questions are: Do I like it? Do I want to listen to it again? Does the music support the lyrics in an interesting way? One of my approaches to writing is to write a chorus or verse/chorus and make 30 or so generations, e.g. 8 genres x 4 tries. I keep the ones that have potential and then start to build from there, maybe cropping and extending, maybe regenerating with more details in the prompt, maybe fixing lyrics so the cadence and impact work better. This is an iterative process. Sometimes, probably too often, I can’t decide what is my best final version, so I release multiple versions and see if one resonates better with other people. 3. The album carries a strong emotional narrative about creative struggle and belonging. How personal is this story, and were there specific moments in your life that directly inspired certain tracks?It is a mix of personal feelings and experiences, along with feelings that I have read repeatedly in social media posted by artists and musicians. “What is art?” is just a straight-up rant about the anti-AI bias. If I feel like I have to repeat my rant many times, and I get sick of hearing myself say (or think) the same thing over and over, I make a song about it. When I wrote “Poison Darts”, I found I was mired in social media negativity and decided it was more healthy to just write a song about what I was feeling. “Vanity” was a reworking of another song from my “Seven Deadly Sins” album that was purely an experiment in creating songs narrated by people that embodied sins and exposed their impact.“Treadmill of hope” was more of an amalgamation of feelings that I heard other artists express, along with some elements that resonated personally.The title track “Maybe I belong” started purely as an experiment to see if I could transform a classical piece into something interesting and different. I loved the sound, so I decided to add lyrics. It felt powerful, so I thought overcoming imposter syndrome would be great subject matter (and fitting for a Rachmaninoff piece since it was something he experienced). It was right at the time when I was seeing some growth in Spotify and so I would say it was a dramatization of my personal experiences. 4. Tracks like “Treadmill of Hope” and the title piece draw from very distinct influences. How do you balance classical inspiration and modern rock energy without losing cohesion across the album? Last year, I was releasing albums with wildly different sounds on them. This was purposeful because it was fun for me, but I realized it probably could not be appreciated by a listener that didn’t already understand me and my mindset and there were about zero of them in the world. This album was my first attempt to create an album that told a story and was sonically cohesive. All of the songs are reworked, remixed or remastered versions of previously released tracks.I realized they could tell a story of hope, struggle, growth and confidence and the lyrics as well as the musical progression could support a coherent, hopeful resonant story, even for traditional musicians that may never listen because it uses AI. 5. There’s an ongoing debate around AI in music, especially regarding authenticity. What would you say to critics who question whether AI-assisted work can truly be considered “human” art?First, I would point them to the song “What is art?”People have always used increasingly sophisticated tools to create art. My belief is that if a piece makes the listener think or feel, it is art. Everyone has the right to judge whether they like a piece of art, but to try to constrain art because of process is the antithesis of art. I have been told listening to some of my songs made people cry. That is a high compliment. I have always wanted to create songs that start conversations. I prefer it to be about my messages, but if it is about my process, that is OK too. I think that with the exception of legendarily talented and hugely financed musicians, most music made is a triumph over the constraints affecting a musician: time, money, skills. Dealing with an unreliable drummer, cost of studio time, access to a virtuoso violinist for a 20 second part of a song are a few of a million challenges that sit between an idea and a finished track. My hope is that musicians don’t use AI to replace what they can do, but use it to
Melany Thompson
Melany Thompson Exploring emotion, memory, and artistic growth, this interview with Melany Thompson reveals how intuition, experience, and her album Mood Blue shape her hauntingly beautiful piano compositions. 1. Your music is often described as “hauntingly beautiful.” How do you approach translating such deep emotion into your piano compositions, and where does that emotional spark usually come from? The spark usually comes from personal moments—memories, relationships, or even just a feeling I can’t quite articulate in words. The piano becomes a way of processing those things. I don’t tend to overthink it at the start; I’ll improvise and follow whatever feels honest in the moment. It’s only later that I shape it into something more structured, but I try to protect that initial emotional instinct. 2. Having been classically trained from a young age, how has your relationship with the piano evolved over time, both technically and personally?When I was younger, it was very much about technique, discipline, and getting things “right.” That training gave me a really strong foundation, but over time my relationship with the piano has become much more personal and intuitive.Now it feels like something I’m returning to in a different way. It’s a space where I can think, reflect, and create without too much pressure. Technically, I may have let go of some of the structured discipline from my early training, but in its place I’ve gained a greater sense of freedom to develop my own patterns and style. 3. Your upcoming album Mood Blue explores different shades of the color blue. What inspired this concept, and how did you translate those emotions into sound?The idea came from thinking about how we associate “blue” with sadness, but also with something much bigger—like the ocean or the sky. There’s a depth and beauty in it that isn’t just about melancholy.Each track was developed from an emotion, a memory or a feeling – some tracks lean more into that intimate, reflective space, others feel a little jazzy or more melodic. It’s really about creating a place where the listener can sit with those emotions and interpret them in their own way. 4. You’ve also composed for screen, including work recognized at the APRA Screen Music Awards. How does your creative process differ when writing for film and television compared to your solo releases? Writing for screen is very different. You’re responding to a brief, a narrative, and often very specific emotional cues. The music’s role is to support what’s already there—enhancing the story without drawing too much attention to itself, and there are often tight deadlines which creates it’s own kind of pressure.My solo work is much more internal with less structure. I can take more time, follow an idea wherever it leads, and allow the piece to evolve organically. That said, I can often procrastinate for a long time with my solo work where as the tight deadlines for screen music force me to write and create quickly. And I do like a deadline. So I love both sides. 5. Mood Blue was recorded at Electric Avenue Studios with Phil Punch and later developed further in your home studio. How did this combination of environments shape the final sound of the album?Recording at Electric Avenue Studios gave the album its core sound—the piano there has such a beautiful depth and character, and working with Phil meant we could really capture those performances in an honest, unedited way. The tracks were recorded in single takes, so they are very real and authentic performances, they aren’t perfect.Bringing everything back into my home studio allowed me to sit with the music and experiment with some subtle ambient layers just in some of the tracks. I felt this gave a little more depth and interest to the overall album. 6. With over 14 million streams and growing recognition worldwide, how do you stay grounded creatively while continuing to evolve your sound and artistic identity?That’s something I’m still figuring out, to be honest. I think imposter syndrome is very real—no matter how many streams or milestones there are, there’s still that voice that questions whether you’re really where you’re meant to be. It’s been such a learning curve since I started releasing music about seven years ago, and I’m still navigating how to balance it all—raising two beautiful kids and making sure they remain my priority. I feel incredibly lucky to have a supportive husband, and I really value the time I do get to spend on this creative passion. Melany Thompson Music | Melany Thompson Music
Antoin Gibson
Antoin Gibson Marking a bold return, Antoin Gibson’s “Diss Tribute” reflects growth, defiance, and strategy—transforming viral momentum into a sharp critique of industry systems while redefining independence and artistic control. 1. Diss Tribute marks one year since your viral debut FlexAble—how does this new track reflect your evolution both artistically and strategically?Diss Tribute is the result of everything that happened after FlexAble – not just creatively, but structurally. FlexAble proved that the work could connect on a global scale instantly. What followed was navigating what happens when that momentum isn’t supported in the way you’d expect.It is the evolution from being an artist playing the game to an architect owning the board. FlexAble was proof of organic, international demand gaining over 2,000 listeners across 54 countries overnight. But when the platform violently suppressed it with a shadow-ban, it forced a strategic metamorphosis. Artistically, I moved from the vulnerable, introspective space into a cold, confrontational rap delivery. Strategically, it birthed the Circum-Sŏnus entity. I stopped asking the gatekeepers for my visibility back and instead built an impenetrable digital fortress around them. Diss Tribute isn’t just an anniversary; it’s a monument built on the ashes of their suppression. 2. You’ve described this release as “sync-driven,” flipping the traditional model of music distribution—what inspired you to prioritize placement over platform metrics?It wasn’t theoretical—it was observed behaviour.Platform metrics are presented as the primary measure of success, but they’re not always transparent, and they’re not always reflective of actual reach or value. Sync, on the other hand, is direct. A placement is a placement—it exists in a real-world context with defined usage.After debuting, I spent time developing not just as an artist but understanding the infrastructure behind it—the side that’s long, technical, and often overlooked, but essential for independent sustainability. That meant registering with organisations like PPL and PRS for Music, setting up rights collection properly, and waiting through the administrative timelines that come with it.Once that foundation is in place, the model shifts. Instead of receiving fractions of pennies through streaming, you’re positioned to collect full mechanical and performance royalties when your work is used—whether that’s through sync placements or radio play.So rather than chasing visibility within a closed system, I built Diss Tribute around external validation points—TV, media, and licensing pipelines—where the outcome is tangible and not abstracted behind an algorithm.It’s less about rejecting streaming, and more about removing dependency on it. 3. The track tackles themes like algorithmic control and industry gatekeeping—what personal experiences shaped this perspective?It wasn’t just a perspective; it was a legally documented reality. When FlexAble was shadow-banned, I didn’t just complain—I pulled my GDPR backend logs. I literally forensically mapped the exact timestamps where human intervention locked and suppressed my account under the guise of “fraud prevention.” I took it all the way to the Information Commissioner’s Office (ICO), forcing Spotify’s Data Protection Team to admit they protect their suppression systems as “trade secrets.” That 21-page data report I compiled shaped my entire worldview. I saw the man behind the curtain, and I realized the entire system is designed to suffocate authentic creators to protect their own corporate infrastructure. 4. Your delivery on Diss Tribute is described as stripped and confrontational—how intentional was this sonic minimalism in amplifying the message?Entirely intentional. If you overproduce an indictment, it becomes entertainment. I didn’t want the listener getting lost in a lush, atmospheric beat; I wanted them cornered by the lyrics. The minimalist approach strips away any place to hide. It forces the vocals to act as a psychoanalytical assessment of the listener and the industry itself. It’s cold, raw, and uncomfortable by design—you cannot ignore the message when the delivery has a knife to your throat. 5. With placements across major networks already secured, how do you see sync licensing shaping the future of independent artists’ careers?It is the only legitimate escape hatch left from the streaming hamster wheel. The traditional playlisting model is rapidly degrading into an AI-generated, bot-farmed wasteland. Sync licensing separates the sonic architects from the “content creators.” If an independent artist can build a catalogue strong enough to clear licensing for MTV, PBS, or the Discovery Network, they permanently bypass the algorithmic gatekeepers. It shifts the artist from being a product exploited by a streaming app, to a business entity operating on a B2B corporate level. As someone who has 100% ownership of my music and performances, it gives me total control over how the sync licences are handled. My music isn’t just out there to be abused however an algorithmic driven platform decides to show or not show my music but instead contracts are drawn up and agreements made where I control the narrative both in front and behind the scenes of my career. 6. As part of your “C U Next Tuesday” release schedule, how does consistency and timing factor into your long-term artistic and business vision?Timing creates identity.Releasing rap on Tuesdays separates it from my Friday dark pop releases, but it also builds a recognisable pattern. Over time, that consistency becomes its own signal—both for listeners and for press.It’s not about frequency for the sake of it. It’s about controlled drops that align with the tone of the material. C U Next Tuesday works because it matches the energy of the tracks—it’s confrontational, it’s deliberate, and it creates its own lane rather than competing in an existing one. Antoin Gibson | Circum-Sonus Records
Ker
Ker Ker explores a brighter, more energetic sound in “Just What Happened,” blending introspection with themes of tenacity and serendipity while setting the tone for the debut album Converging Paths. 1. “Just What Happened” carries a more upbeat and energetic tone compared to your previous work—what inspired this shift in pace and mood? I don’t want the tracks to be different arrangements in the same songs albeit in different keys, but to be broadly upbeat, relatable and hopefully enjoyable to hear. 2. The song explores themes like circumstance, tenacity, and serendipity. How do these elements reflect your own personal journey as an artist?This song has an introspective bias, but hopefully not too self-indulgent with, in those songs, have a ‘light touch’. The theme is really as you identified – tenacity and serendipity. 3. Your upcoming album Converging Paths suggests a meeting of different influences and experiences—can you tell us more about the concept behind the record?As a debut album, I wanted to bring a number of thoughts and ideas together under what I hope to be a distinctive and compelling ‘sound’ and ‘style’. 4. There’s a strong introspective layer in your music. When writing “Just What Happened,” were you drawing from specific life moments or more universal reflections? As the songs unfold, the introspective elements will dwindle, with the songs much more ‘ideas’ based, exploring possibly quirky themes, but which are rooted in human nature and the various factors and forces that influence attitudes and behaviour. 5. You’ve been gaining recognition across Europe and the US—how has this growing international audience influenced your creative direction, if at all?The feed back from reviews has reinforced the overall direction and style, and what might be lost in translation, might be made up with in melody and tone. Having lived in France, visited the US on many occasions, I have some understanding of the importance of different aspects and hope that the topics in the main are relatable or relevant in one way or another. 6. Looking ahead to the release of Converging Paths, what do you hope listeners take away from both the album and this latest single?I am hoping that there will be sufficient interest in these songs to establish a cohesion and a variety that has a common thread and feel. Just What Happened is to be followed by a jaunty ‘country style’ rockabilly song, prior to a powerful song drawing on a book written by a survivor of WW1. I have almost finished writing 10 or more songs for the 2nd album, and some tracks already had studio time. Home | KER Music
Ava Nicole
Ava Nicole Ava Nicole’s debut “Birthday Card” sets a raw, unfiltered tone—blending grief, rage, and storytelling into a powerful introduction that lays the emotional foundation for her deeply personal artistic journey. 1. “Birthday Card” is a deeply emotional debut—what made you choose this song as the first introduction to your artistry?‘Birthday Card’ had to be first because it’s the foundation of everything. It’s the origin story. For me, artistry is about radical honesty, and there is nothing more honest than a diary-esque account of a double betrayal. I wanted people to understand exactly where my ‘white-hot fury’ comes from. This song introduces the ‘Almost Mom’ character who is central to the album’s narrative. I didn’t want to start with a ‘safe’ pop song; I wanted to start with the truth so that when listeners hear the rest of the album, they know exactly what I’ve survived. 2. The track explores grief, anger, and confusion in a very raw way—how did you approach writing about such complex emotions?Writing was my only escape. I found myself in a position where I felt like I wasn’t ‘allowed’ to be angry because society tells you to just be sad when someone passes away. But when that person broke every promise to get clean and chose an overdose over being in your life, sadness doesn’t cover it. I couldn’t talk about it in normal conversation—it felt too heavy—so I put it into the music. The high-energy alt-rock sound was intentional; I needed the drums and the guitars to be as loud as the thoughts I was keeping inside. 3. You’ve described yourself as a “theater kid with a rocker’s spirit”—how does that influence your songwriting and performance style?Theater taught me how to inhabit a story and deliver it with intention, but Rock gave me the permission to be ‘ugly’ and loud. In theater, you learn that every word has weight, and I carry that into my lyrics—like the ‘shoebox full of secrets.’ But the ‘rocker spirit’ is what allows me to take those scripted emotions and turn them into something visceral. When I’m performing, I’m not just singing notes; I’m performing an exorcism of those memories. It’s about being dramatic in a way that feels 100% authentic. 4. The imagery in “Birthday Card,” like the shoebox of secrets, feels very cinematic—how important is visual storytelling in your music? It’s vital. I want people to hear the lyrics, but I also want them to see through my eyes. I just released the official music video for Birthday Card, and it was a very intense process. We used flashbacks of bleaching hair and sharing beer to show the ‘mentor’ relationship I lost, contrasted with the dark, gothic imagery of the present. Visuals like the black birthday cake or the shadow of the ‘ghost’ hand reaching for me help ground the abstract feeling of grief into something people can touch and feel. It’s about reliving those memories so I can finally let them go. 5. Your sound blends pop vulnerability with alternative rock energy—how did you develop that balance, and who inspired you?It really comes back to that theater kid energy—I love a big, emotional ’11 o’clock number,’ but I want it to have the grit of a garage band. I love women who are not afraid to be messy and loud—artists like Alanis Morissette, Hayley Williams, and Amy Lee. They showed me that you can have a pop-sensible melody that people can sing along to, but you can house it inside a wall of aggressive alt-rock sound. It’s that ‘pretty exterior vs. dark interior’ theme again. 6. As “Birthday Card” leads into your debut album When Everything Is Said and Done, what themes and experiences can listeners expect from the full record?The album is a journey. If ‘Birthday Card’ is the wound, the rest of the record is the healing and the reclamation of power. Listeners can expect that same diary-esque intimacy throughout, but it’s not all ‘heavy’ grief. I have tracks like ‘JACKPOT’ (dropping May 15!) and ‘DUMB GIRL’ that lean into a more sassy, defiant side of my personality. ‘JACKPOT’ is a total pivot—it’s fun, high-energy, and about realizing you’re the prize, not the person who let you down. The album title, When Everything Is Said and Done, refers to the final track where I finally acknowledge the people who did stay. It’s a full-circle story of survival. Ava Nicole (@avanicole.music) • Photos et vidéos Instagram
Adam Wedd
Adam Wedd From bathroom acoustics to bold industry defiance, Adam Wedd discusses the raw inspiration, creative risks, and emotional depth behind “Here We Go AGAIN” and his uncompromising artistic vision. 1. “Here We Go AGAIN” has a really fresh, almost spring-like energy — can you take us back to that moment in your parents’ bathroom when the song first came to life? Ha, yes — the bathroom! Look, every songwriter has their weird origin story spot and mine apparently involves bathroom acoustics and avoiding the rest of the house. I’d gone back to stay at my parents’ place for a bit and I remember just being in there, probably procrastinating on everything else I was supposed to be doing, and this melody just fell out. There’s something about that tiled reverb, honestly. It felt immediately alive, like it had this urgency to it. I grabbed my phone, voice-noted it, and the whole energy of the song was essentially there in that first rough scrap. Sometimes the best stuff comes when you’re not trying too hard. 2. You’ve chosen a bold route by holding back your album from streaming until you sell 1,000 physical copies. What inspired this decision, and what does it say about your relationship with music and your audience?It’s something I feel really strongly about. Streaming is incredible for reach, but it can also make music feel completely disposable — like background noise. I want people to actually hold this record, to have a relationship with it. Short-term, I hope to sell 1,000 copies of my debut album on CD and vinyl (RGM) — and I mean that sincerely, not as a gimmick. If someone buys a physical copy, they’re making a choice. They’re saying this matters to me enough to own it. That exchange means so much more than a passive stream. It’s also me being honest about what I value — I’m not swimming with the current here, I feel like salmon swimming upstream a lot of the time in this industry, and that’s fine by me. 3. The song explores contrasts like success vs. greed and love vs. suffocation. How do these themes reflect your personal journey and the current state of the world?I think they’re the same tension, really — both personally and globally. The music industry is full of beautiful souls making music for the right reasons, and greedy, soulless people who just want to make money and be famous. That contradiction is in the song. And love — real love — can sometimes tip into something possessive or controlling without either person noticing. I’ve lived both sides of that, maybe. You look at the world right now and you see the same pattern playing out everywhere: something that starts with genuine intention curdles into something suffocating. Writing about it is how I process it. If it resonates with someone else who’s feeling that tension, then it’s done its job. 4. You worked with Paul Tipler at Unit 13 — what did he bring to the track that helped elevate its final sound? Paul is genuinely one of the best people I’ve ever worked with. Unit 13 is his place in Bermondsey , and there’s just this atmosphere there — it’s a proper working studio with real history in its walls. What Paul does brilliantly is know exactly when to leave space and when to push. He’s not trying to impress you with tricks; he’s listening to what the song actually needs. He’s mixed a lot of my records now and there’s a shorthand there. I don’t have to explain everything — he hears it. With “here we go AGAIN” specifically, he helped lock in that brightness, that spring energy you mentioned, without making it feel polished to death. It still breathes. 5. The artwork is often the first visual connection fans have with a release — what’s the story or concept behind the artwork for “here we go AGAIN”?I think artwork should give you a feeling before you’ve heard a single note. For this one, I wanted something that captured that sense of cyclical momentum — that bittersweet “oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” feeling. There’s something almost optimistic about repetition when you frame it right. We went through a few ideas but landed on something that felt immediate and a little restless. I love when artwork makes you curious rather than just tells you what to think. Whether I totally nailed that is for the listener to decide, but the intention was always energy and movement. 6. With your album release show set at the legendary Cart & Horses, what can fans expect from that night, and how are you preparing to celebrate this milestone?The Cart & Horses is just such a special room — it has that kind of history you can feel under your feet when you’re standing on the stage. I want it to be a proper celebration, not just a gig. There’ll be the full band, we’ll play the album front to back, there’ll be stories, probably some chaos, definitely some drink. I’ve been writing music since I was a teenager and this album is the most complete thing I’ve put out — it feels like everything I’ve been building toward. I want people to leave that night having felt something. That’s always the goal. I hope my music helps people feel something, or if they’re already feeling something, that it sits with them in that moment. That’s it, really. That’s the whole thing. Adam Wedd
Bae Baracus
Bae Baracus In this candid interview, Bae Baracus challenge conventions, embracing ambiguity, rejecting easy narratives, and exploring creativity, authenticity, and DIY ethos behind their genre-blurring EP and uncompromising artistic vision boldly distinctive. 1. “Between 2 Worlds” shows a softer, more atmospheric side of the band. What inspired this dreamy direction, and how did the influence of Cocteau Twins shape the track? In the age of AI slop, taking existing art and using it to create “new” content is all the rage now. I guess we’re just following a trend. 2. The EP moves from that hazy opener into the high-energy “What Is This?”. How do you approach balancing contrasting moods and sounds within such a short release? We don’t balance them. Why would we? 3. “What Is This?” explores overwhelming emotions and confusion. Can you tell us more about the story or feelings behind the song, and how they translated into that punchy, funk-infused sound? The creative process is a dark, murky thing only human heart can understand, so no. 4. “Flare (CME)” sounds like a bold experiment with strict creative rules. What drew you to that approach, and how did breaking those rules affect the final result? If it sounds like that to you, you’re the one best equipped to fully imagine that narrative, honestly. 5. Your music blends electro, punk attitude, and pop sensibility in a way that feels very natural. Do you consciously try to avoid genre labels, or is it simply a byproduct of your creative process? Defining “feels natural” is a road I don’t think we ought to go too far down. 6. With your DIY aesthetic extending into visuals, videos, and artwork, how important is that hands-on approach to defining the identity of Bae Baracus as a band? What other kind of approach is there to art other than “hands-on”? Any art that’s not hands-on is not art. For example, AI-generated content. https://www.instagram.com/baebaracus/
Daisy Howard
Daisy Howard In this interview, Daisy Howard opens up about the emotional cycles behind “On and On,” sharing insights into love, reflection, and transforming personal experiences into a compelling debut album. 1. Your latest single “On and On” captures the addictive cycle of a relationship that keeps repeating itself. What was the moment that made you realize the pattern—and inspired you to turn it into a song? Honestly, I think it was hindsight. As it goes with these kinds of relationships, you can’t really see it while you’re in it. It wasn’t until years later when I was reflecting on the back-and-forth dynamic of this relationship that I realised there was almost a bit of dark humour to it… I never wanted to take away from the fact that it was heartbreakingly tumultuous, but I could see a bit clearer that I was just as much a part of the constant to-and-fro-ing. No one could keep up with whether we had broken up or were back together, and neither could I – hence the question: “we just broke up again, or are we back together?” It’s meant to be a bit ironic… 2. Your debut album is described as a cohesive narrative following one transformative relationship. How did you approach structuring such a personal story across multiple songs? I started writing these songs during the relationship and continued writing until years after we parted ways. When I decided to start recording my songs and potentially lay down an album, I realized I had a whole narrative already written. As such, I’m planning on ordering the songs of the album chronologically so my listeners can get a real insight into the story of us. Things got so crazy at times that I remember feeling that my life could be a book – turns out that time would become an album, which is close enough… 3. You blend raw emotional honesty with a rock-influenced sound inspired by bands like Red Hot Chili Peppers and Foo Fighters. How do those influences shape your songwriting today? It’s funny because I never set out to write a song in the style of anyone – they kind of just come flowing through. Then, I realise a melody or a hook sound like something off ‘There’s Nothing Left to Lose’ or ‘Stadium Arcadium’, and why? Well, these are the albums I grew up with – the soundtrack to my teen years. I guess it’s only natural that these bands will, in some way, shape or form, influence the way I write. With ‘On & On’, actually, we were nearing the end of production and I said to Seagame (my producer) that I could kind of hear a bit of a Frusciante guitar riff in my head that belonged somewhere in the track; for reference, we pulled up ‘She’s Only 18’ and tried to bring some of that flavour into the mix. So it might not be obvious to the average listener, but I guess it’s a bit of an homage to the music I grew up with. 4. You mentioned that creating this album was a cathartic experience. In what ways did the process of writing and recording help you process that chapter of your life? My god, was it cathartic… to be honest, it was hard at first. When I began recording these tracks at the end of 2023 and into 2024, it was quite an emotional experience. I had to kind of catapult myself back to those COVID years (when I was in that relationship) and really feel into where I was at during this time. This was, of course, to reach into the depths of my soul and pull out those emotions from when things were at their peak-dramatic-ness (that should totally be a word, but alas, it’s not…) – and I won’t lie, it kind of sent me into a spiral. Those years were, to quote Dickens, the best of times and the worst of times. The days surrounding each studio session were heavy. That being said, it felt… necessary. In taking myself back to those challenging moments and pulling out all those emotions I’d been sitting on for years, I got it all out and put it into the songs. Whilst ‘On & On’ is more playful, the other tracks are definitely more emotional. 5. Having built an audience through cover performances with millions of views, what has the transition to fully original material taught you about your identity as an artist? I think any songwriter feels this, but yeah, putting your own material out into the world is scary as F. This is really vulnerable, revealing stuff… and my songs are like my babies, you know? I made them and I’ve nurtured them into something I’m really proud of, but that’s not to say other people will agree. One of the biggest things you have to do as an artist is accept that not everyone will get it – not everyone will hear your music like you do – and it’s about that delicate balance between putting your ego to one side, and also believing in your art, no matter what. It’s tricky. That all being said, though, being a songwriter is the same as being a storyteller, and my goodness have I got stories to tell… so what’s the point in never sharing them? In short, I have to do it… 6. Living a semi-nomadic lifestyle and working between places like Koh Phangan and Chiang Mai, how do your surroundings influence your creativity and the emotional tone of your music? Being on the move is very fruitful for my creativity, though I’d say the most inspiration I get comes from the people I meet. This is why I love to travel to new places and meet new people. If I stayed in one place, I’m not sure I’d be able to write as much. I’m incredibly grateful to be able to live the way I do, as I know
Kneeshake
Kneeshake Exploring transformation, spirituality, and self-empowerment, this interview dives into kneeshake’s “Godstruck,” uncovering the personal breakthroughs, emotional depth, and evolving artistry behind a bold, cinematic sound. 1. “Godstruck” centers on reclaiming personal power and rediscovering inner divinity. What was the defining moment that inspired you to write this track? I got the idea of Godstruck when -for the first time in my life- I found myself in an extremely happy space. I had gotten out of a horrible depression, I found love, I got my dream job and everything just kinda fell into place. I truly felt like I had been blessed by God. I think all that positive momentum poured itself into the making of the song. 2. You mention that the song reflects a time when you “gave your power away.” How did that period shape both your identity and your approach to music today? When I said ”giving my power away” I referenced a time in my life where I often doubted myself, felt out of touch or just felt extremely miserable. Now I’m like, well If I only knew how good it would get I could’ve just chilled out? I think those dark periods are very crucial in everyone’s lives to realize what you want more or less of going forward. 3. Sonically, “Godstruck” blends hard production with a cinematic, emotional atmosphere. How did you approach building that balance in the studio? I’ve always been drawn to very dramatic and cinematic music, one of my first influences was Florence & The Machine. I loved how her music always felt so cathartic, like she was exorcising something out of her into sound. I think I’ve been very influenced by her and other artists like Perfume Genius. 4. Your work often touches on spirituality, identity, and mental health. How do these themes continue to evolve in your artistry as kneeshake grows? I love writing (and listening) to songs that aren’t about romantic love, or if it is – it has to have some fantastical element to it. I love challenging myself what I can write about in a song. Is it really OK to write and sing about existential dread? About God? Big topics like that really excite me and I hope to continue explore more of that. 5. As a self-taught artist, producer, and actor, how do these different creative outlets influence one another in your overall vision? I would love to play more live, since I have years of experience on stage I think it would feel very natural to me to expand this project in front of a live audience. I’ve heard my music is very theatrical, but I don’t quite know what that means. Maybe it’s the intensity and the drama of the sounds combined with the lyrics. I would love for a live audience to be as intrigued with the words and story as the music. 6. With “Godstruck” marking another step in your evolution, what can listeners expect next from kneeshake in terms of sound and storytelling? I’m experimenting with minimalism at the moment, my past three singles have been very epic and grand (which I love!) but something in me would love to explore lesser elements while still maintaining that intensity I really love. I’m definitely continuing leaning into the pop landscape. https://www.instagram.com/kneeshake.mp3/